PET
by darkkfaery
Summary: NO LONGER A ONESHOT. Valtiel is God's attendant. Valtiel is her guardian. Valtiel is becoming more than a monster... she's making him human. His twisted POV of the lovely SH3 character, Heather. V/H
1. Precious

Watching…

…Waiting…

…Wanting.

As the countless nights skim by, I perpetually stalk she who will birth God. And as each countless nights skim, I grow weak. Weak? This is ludicrous, weak. I know the meaning, but I have never felt it. Not until now. Weakness.

I am indestructible. I am sacred. I am worshipped. I am everything. I am a mere servant.

What would those religious crazed people think if they knew the things I dream about? The things _I_ worship? The things I _feel_? Do they know I feel? I could care less. Lesser they will always be, less than me. Lower than the servant.

I create with my own blood rusted hands. I resurrect with the very fibers of my being. But what I cannot do… is breathe.

For a discomforting amount of heavy time, I watched the meat girl Heather bleed and scream and fight and _breathe_. Her actions and details perplexed me. Like the way she turned for a backwards glance at the kills she made, or the warm smooth flesh of her legs as I dragged her away for a resurrection. It made me-- I envied her on a reasonable level. I have and always will be cold and breathless but the task she has bore upon me is pushing the boundaries I thought that I never had.

Of the few beings that enter Silent Hill, they all share one thing. Mortal blood. This salty crimson fluid; I stretch it, bend it, and revive it. But I can never have it. I can never entirely know pain or pleasure. These complicated creatures could never compare to any of my characteristics. Not until I watched her.

I stalked moreover than I thought I had. There. Again, I am forgetting. Forgetting? Only humans carry out such foolishness. The deed was to watch and guard the God within her. But my task became an error. I watched and guarded _her_ instead.

Her imperfections are – dare I say – glorious. I let her see me when I chose, only so that my own imperfections weren't revealed.

Imperfections? I have imperfections now too?

For the first time, I do not understand. I don't think I want to understand either. Unlike many humans, Heather doesn't lie. She doesn't hide any of her faults. She is a wonder.

On occasions I feel grief now. I suppose its grief anyhow. When she sleeps, she cries for her father. She cries and cries until her limp convulsing body cannot weep anymore. Is it pity that I feel for her? These absurd new oddities are truly fascinating. But are they wrong?

It is time now.

Time to conclude my watch, my wait, and my want. Their freak God was born dark and unnatural just like them. And I helped. I helped _her_. As I had placed the veil over the monstrosity's face, I –in a sense– masked the creature of all hope of being revived.

So from afar I watched as my precious fought her battle, as my Heather annihilated all immortality from my soul. And after she wept again for her lost father, through the silence and darkness of this forsaken town… I approached.

**The boogeymen are coming.**

She saw. She gasped. She _breathed_. As did I… _I breathed_.

**Stay with me.**

She's seen me before; she knows I won't harm her. Good girl. _Stay_.

**Safe and ignorant.**

I smell no fear. Just pain, loss, and regret. But why? She has it all. She has her freedom…

**Stay with me.**

Her bruised hand lifts and takes mine. Does she know? She has to know. She surely knows. I squeeze her softness in return and she begins to leave, looks back and smiles. _Smiles_. She thanked me. She thinks I'm done.

**Hold you and protect you from the other ones.**

I'm hardly finished as her guardian. I am indestructible. I am worshipped. I am her servant.

**Go back to sleep.**

I am Valtiel. And she is _mine_.

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**Glad I got this off my chest, wow. By the way YES if you awesome people have figured it out by now, I was inspired by the phenomenal song "Pet" by A Perfect Circle. This is just one of my many favorites from that band. Originally this was going to be based off the song "Weak and Powerless" but that one steers away from the 'inner conflict' Valtiel has in the little POV I created here. Whereas Pet virtually explains everything that Valtiel does. He protects her from the boogeymen.**

**I highly consider you to listen to this song. It's beautiful, it's blunt, and it's very Silent Hill in my opinion.**

**Sorry if it's short but this fiction sums it all up in my perspective. You can look at this anyway you like, because like the games… it's the way **_**you**_** see it.**


	2. Tender Sugar

Is that the end? Had the credits rolled without my consent? Am I really awake this time? Dear God I hope so. My surroundings are so surreal. I'm _out_. I can't believe that I'm actually outside of that horrible nightmare. I can't believe it. Can I?

The more important thing right now is what the hell I'm going to do next. Drop the sleeping sack of the bleeding old man off at some hospital miles away from here? What can I do? Go back to my life without a care in the world? Go to college and start a family? Like that would work anyways. My life was never normal, never average, and never ordinary. I suppose that's why I haven't had a mental breakdown, for the most part.

"Too bad my legs are lame." The rough and husky voice of that damned detective scared the hell out of me. I thought he was asleep. I thought it was something else.

I didn't give him the pleasure of carrying a full conversation so I retorted curtly, "Why's that?"

He chuckled low and soft, thumping his four fingertips at the cold glass of his car window. "Because if it weren't for your lead foot I'd get us out of here a helluva lot safer you know. Don't tell me after all that you didn't learn a thing about watching after your ass. Even if I wasn't in the car, you wouldn't want to wreck."

Old punk. "FYI Douglas, we're already out of Silent Hill so keep your pants on."

I guess I hadn't noticed it before until I checked the speed gage; 92. _Fantastic_. As our voices grew hushed and when he hadn't responded to me I eventually let the speed rush die out. Die… My God… Dad.

A burning sensation tickled the upper portion of my face and hot tears began to well. Oh Dad, I wish I could have helped. I wish I could have been there. I could have been there. I could have saved you. You could still be alive, breathing, speaking… raising me.

Much to the similarities of the unnoticed speeding, a downpour engulfed the darkened night streets around me. There are so many questions; I don't think I want to know the answers to them just yet. I want my Dad back, it's so unfair. What did I do to deserve to be punished back in that hellish town? Why is this happening?

Without warning something dark dashed across the road. If I hadn't slowed down earlier- - what was that thing anyway? The blond hairs on my arm rose high within goose bumps. Am I_ really_ out? What the hell am I saying? It was probably just a deer or coyote. I glanced over to Douglas to see if he saw it too. And to my surprise he jerked, snoring like a motorboat. Poor guy, if he didn't follow me he wouldn't have gotten dragged into it too. Hmm, if it wasn't for his help I'd be…

My whole body went numb and I began to shake. If it wasn't for his help, I'd be long gone by now. Not with Douglas' help and unfortunately not by my father's help either. But that – _thing's_ help. Why? Why did it want to help me? What possible sanity is left in that terrible place? What haunting creature is there to aid me in such scenarios? And what in the blue FUCK was I thinking! Shaking its hand! It could have killed me… oh Dad.

I released a climatic sob as soft and quiet as I could without waking Douglas but to no avail. He woke with a start and at first showed puzzlement and then what appeared to be compassion.

"Heather." He began as I quickly silenced myself and ignored the fact that I had been crying again. "You'll be just fine. You shouldn't cry."

Why not? My Dad's dead. I have nothing to live for. I don't know if I could live my life the way I had once before. I can't go on knowing the things I just experienced. Damn, how the hell does this guy do it? Ignore it? Nah, he's got plenty of years on him, probably used to ignoring things. What am I saying? I don't like where this is heading.

He continued to question me and I continued to ignore. Isn't that what I'm supposed to do? Forget the bad and look forwards to the new? But as soon as he got the message he went straight back to sleeping like a baby. To be honest I feel sorry for him and--

"_The boogeymen are coming."_ A whisper resounds.

I whip my head around to see where the toneless words came from. Douglas is sound asleep, the windows are rolled up, and there's not a sound but the rain and my thoughts. Then suddenly an odd feeling began to overwhelm me. It scared me. I was homesick. But what scared me the most was that home felt like… "Silent Hill."

To my utterly brutal horror the radio fuzzed over and squealed with a dark humor. My eyes shot wide, glued to the buttons and dials. I've got to be dreaming. I've got to be. Then suddenly, through the sheets of rain, and blackness of the night rolled out an unearthly fog.

"Douglas!" I scream. I want to stop driving but I can't, my feet won't let me. My body won't let me.

The car cut into the thick grey beyond and I couldn't see even five feet before me. God why isn't he answering me? I turn and note the empty seat next to me. I suck in a breath of shock. What the hell is happening?

Before another thought raced my muse I smashed head on into something big. Then everything went dark.

.

"Oh my head," I rasped out, softly massaging my forehead. It was warm and wet; I brought my fingers down and found crimson liquid slightly dripping down my nails.

Shit. Reality… or whatever the hell it was hit me hard and fast. I was back. Back home I suppose. _Home?_ What? I looked again to the seat next to mine and found nothing. I can't be alone, I can't be.

I heard the distinct sounds of slurping to the right of me and in the far distance was a black squirming figure. I spoke too soon about being alone. Within seconds I shot out of the totaled car and realized what exactly I had crashed into, the Brookhaven Hospital. I shuddered unwillingly and yet I brought myself to enter it. Maybe I could find something here.

"_The boogeymen are coming."_

"Or someone," I squeaked aloud, skittishly turning every which way.

I still had my flashlight on me, that and a shit load of weapons. I don't know why I kept them. It sure was a good thing that I had though. Reluctantly I turned the light on and pursued farther into the familiar rusting hell-like hospital. I drew out my nifty handgun, holding it steady and high before me with my knife in the other grip at my side.

Delving deeper into the rotting labyrinth I searched and searched for an answer. What brought me back? Claudia? Vincent? Dad? I never even found his body; I can't even hold a proper funeral for him.

In mid hallway I stopped, fell to my knees and wept again. It felt like my soul was pouring out. I couldn't even breathe at times but I couldn't do much of anything else now could I?

Beneath my moans and groans was an uneasy feeling of dread I could almost hear it. Wait, I can hear it; the deep threatening vibe of somebody or in this possible case, something behind me. I felt the floor softly vibrate with each foot steps and then, an awful scraping of swords.

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**Didn't think I'd be back for more? Well think again. Heather is – in this case– back for more and what could possibly be behind her? Where's Douglas? And what led her there?! Keep on the edges of your seats and send plenty of reviews if you'd like to hear more.**


	3. Safe And Ignorant

I am a being of another world, the fanatics had proclaimed. Another world? Truly? Then why do I exist in a deprived cavity of hell instead of some other holy land? To be honest and simple, I do not know much about myself, my past, or future. Just because I can provide life for others, doesn't make me a God. And it doesn't make me a servant either. But all my life, as long as I could remember, I have always taken orders. Until now, that is.

This curse throbs within my confined skull, it makes me strong. It makes me thrive like no man could ever dream of thriving. Sometimes as humans pass into Silent Hill, I watch them for a good deal of time; learning their language, mimicking their movements, and moreover pretending to be mortal. How is that? I'd love to meet another of my kind that _wants_ to know more of mortality. Who _wants_ to be immortal anyhow?

I have seen my fair share of gluttonous personalities and a ridiculous amount of fear but none compare to my bewilderment for her. _Her_.

Heather. Glorious Heather. Whether she knows it or not, this fragile creature bound by heartache has been tremendously disarraying my conscious. I was full once. I was complete and limitless to all means of life. It is pathetically ironic as well. I breathe life into others yet I cannot breathe life unto myself. I would be astonished to know if people showed pity.

As I mused, I walked through the misty thickness of fog. Usually, I wouldn't be outside and _usually_ I wouldn't be walking, instead crawling or fidgeting like I normally do. That is normal for me. I was always like that. I don't mean to be but it's been the way that I got around for ages. And for the sake of mortality I glided without hint of twitching or convulsions.

I never steered too far from buildings though. The roads and parks just didn't satisfy me enough to spark my curiosity. Unless Heather occupied them of course.

_She's here._ I can almost taste her again. That sweet undeniable taste of her weaknesses. Has she heard my desperate calls for her return? It was foolish and _human_ of me to do but I couldn't help myself. When have I ever not been capable of helping myself? I want her as my own. To please her. To ease her. To keep her all to myself with no one else's intrusions. To _keep_ her above all. To _keep_ her.

Wait. Something's wrong.

"The boogeymen are coming." I state aloud.

Where ever she is, she will hear it. I know it and I feel it. She's at the Brookhaven Hospital. My my, that charming little flower is faster than I thought.

I will myself as fast as my monstrous legs allow me and in no time I find myself dashing into the hospital and rearing corners, left and right until I finally spot my precious Heather. Hmm... Just as I had predicted earlier, a damsel in distress. What a more perfect opportunity than this.

.

I don't want to turn around; I just don't want to face whatever the hell is behind me. I've been through enough haven't I? Why am I still here? I killed Claudia's freak God. What else does this despicable town have left to throw at me? Oh the hell with it. It's not like I have anything better on my plate right now.

I turn with a tension building around the handle of my knife, and my finger trigger happy as can be. Oh no…

The scuttling thing before me wriggled and twitched its way out of the shadows and into the hopefulness of my light. Too late now, all hope is diminished. It's that God damned missionary creature that—that killed Dad. I can't do this. I can't kill it again and again and again, in hopes of my Dad returning. He won't ever come back. No matter who I kill, and no matter how many times I destroy it.

But it's not like I'm going to give in that easily. I raise my handgun high again and start blasting the bastard. Uh-oh. After a weak few bullets pumped out, the empty clicking of the trigger was the only sound left. I dug into my pockets galore but no bullets prevailed. All of my other nifty weapons were back in the car. Just my luck, I'm stuck in a knife fight when my adversary has two swords for hands. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Without warning it rushes at me fast and knocks me over, sending the knife flying through the air, and clunked against an unknown surface. Oh God. This is what Dad must have felt like. Helpless. Weak. Alone.

I didn't dare to back down though. If I die now, I die with dignity as my father most likely had done. I'm not just some little girl anymore, if I have to kill this thing with my bare hands… Lord knows me I will.

The ugly thing circles around me like a starving, mocking vulture and it cocked its deformed head as if to say 'It's your turn'. I could almost read its disgusting mind. Being here for such a long period of time has almost made me mad, reading their body language like they were perverse serial killers. But I'm trailing off the dangerous subject here. Wait… why isn't it attacking me?

I clench my fists, knuckles turning white, screaming. "Come on!"

Nothing.

It continued its slow and precise little circles around me until I finally had enough of this bullshit. I lunge forwards and kick its hard deteriorating abdomen. It stumbled back, even fell. Whoa, I never knew my legs are _that_ strong. But before I knew it that thing, quick as ever, was back on its feet and rushing again at me. This time I took the liberty of rushing head on too. A pretty dumb method if you ask me, but I did it anyways. Faster and faster I sped across the room and before we collided I shut my eyes tight, bracing for impact. But lo and behold as I crashed into it, it felt like it wasn't running at me at all. Like I was stupidly crashing head on into a locked door.

We fell to the ground, sprawled out in a tangled mess. It stopped rushing. In fact, it looked dead. It usually took a helluva lot more effort than that to take these things down.

"What the hell?!" I crawled off of the thing and stood shaking, "What just happened?"

There was a soft and almost childish chuckle behind me. I whipped around but found only the beckoning darkness of the hospital's hallway. Again another sound of teasing laughter echoed behind me. I turned again and there was nothing. What's going on?

I didn't dare myself for another second to stay in that damn place. There was nothing here to be found; no clues, no traces, no sign of getting out of Silent Hill. You know… strangely that thought comforted me.

.

How long will it take for it to get through to me? An hour? A day? A whole annual? When will it sink in that I am not allowed to interfere with the creatures of this town? I just _killed_ that missionary monstrosity for her. I am a being of life, not death. But it felt—it felt so _right_. My precious is safe; my lovely wonder is safe and protected now. No one can harm her. I won't let them.

Wait, where'd she go? Damnit.

Old habits of talking to myself don't die at all. I quickly found a lingering waft of her refreshing scent and pursued the hot trail. Why didn't she stay? She's such a peculiarity.

I found her within seconds of dashing across the crusting damp ceilings. She looked odd from this angle. And what was she up to? She sat cowering beneath a filthy gurney, curled up in an unstable fashion. I wonder if I should approach her again. Yes, I think a confrontation is in order. After all she hadn't thanked me for rescuing her. She must have known it was me all along. Who else would it have been? The red pyramid?

So it was happening. Once more I quietly and unsuspectingly made my way down the rusting wall and to her comfort… whatever that is.

I felt the patchwork creases on my head spreading out as I spoke, "Your welcome Heather."

For a while I had been expecting some form of human thanks or whatever it is they do to return favors but instead, to my utter shock there was a deafening shriek as the gurney just below me lifted up high and fast, colliding into my face. It didn't hurt me physically but I could say my dignity was definitely affected.

I shook my head in slight confusion and contemplated crawling back into the darkness and scapegoat of the ceiling. But my thinking has been slowing down lately and before I reacted she was standing before me in all the curious wonders that I knew. She was shaking unbearably but why?

"W-What are you? Why are you following me?" she said.

I tilted my head. What in the name of all things unholy should I say? Should I even speak to her? What would the fanatics think now? Aiding a mortal other than themselves. It won't matter I suppose. I sunk my hands into the flesh-like wall and slickly arched my back until my boots met the floor. My vision readjusted and I cocked my head again.

And so I repeat, "Your welcome Heather."

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**Ha, Val's got a funny idea of rescuing damsels in distress. And yes it was the missionary, not PH to all of you unlucky guessers. But good try!**

**I know it's a little jumbled up with the point of views and whatnot but I figured I might as well do it sooner than later. Imagine EVERY chapter switching off POVs? Nah not my style, so I apologize if anyone was confused with the tweakage… which hopefully none were.**

**So what's gonna happen next? Will Heather freak out and bash the living hell out of poor Valtiel again? Will we ever find out where on earth Douglas went? And note to readers, aliens have nothing to do with it. Ha. OH and another AN; I switched the rating to 'M' mostly because of language right now. COUGH, right now. So keep on reading and reviewing/story alerting so you may find out what happens next!**


	4. True

Okay, I'll admit there have been some ridiculous times in my life where I understood a situation but was always too lazy to give a rat's ass to do anything about it. I personally blame the teenage hormones. But this situation in particular just wasn't one of those lazy 'I don't give a rat's ass' about asking questions or let alone taking actions. The thing spoke to me! It can talk! Never would I ever imagine it helping me and now conversing with me. What has this world—you know I'm not going to wonder anymore. It's time for some questions to be answered.

But I hesitated at first "What are you? Why are you following me?"

Above all I wanted to know why it was following me. Ha! And I thought Douglas was creepy. Douglas… I wonder if he knows where he went. Hmm… highly unlikely though. And just when I thought things couldn't get any freakier it inched down the wall and backbended its way to the floor. I felt a little woozy after that but I kept my composure as best as I could. It huffed a little bit and hunkered over. But although its back was hunched, it was then when I noticed its alarming height. The thing was _huge_.

"Your welcome Heather," it gurgled in a very deep ravenous manner.

It was difficult to hear at first but when it repeated itself I could hear the words vomit out of the creases on its face a little more clearly this time. Although it was bleak I was able to understand. So my defensive instincts decided to back down.

"For what?" I ask.

Oh God it's getting closer to me. I was too scared to move though. Too scared that if I made an offensive gesture it would snap and attack me.

It chuckled that familiar chuckle before when the missionary fell dead, "Your rescue."

My rescue? Oh. My rescue. Damn, and here I was thinking I was beginning to turn into superwoman or something. "Thank you," I said, starting to ease my tense muscles again.

I drew in a deep quivering breath and exhaled in apprehension. "I have some questions that need to be answered," I squeaked, "If you don't mind."

I wanted to cower, to wince, and to prepare myself for a blow to the face but the body language of this creature didn't make me want to do those things. It was very quiet and very still for the longest time. Maybe thinking of an answer? Hopefully a nice and peaceful answer.

"Come. It isn't safe here." It said, completely oblivious to the request I had made.

It took me by the arm and led me in a direction I hadn't been before. Where was it taking me? And why the hell am I letting it hold me? And… it's so cold. It's so soft but so freezing to the touch. Before I knew it we were outside of the decrepit hospital. A shortcut, that was very interesting. I didn't want to stare at it but I couldn't help not to. Its bulging muscles were extremely intimidating and its facelessness had me shaking in my boots a lot more than its lean and chilly skin.

In a way I wanted to know where it was taking me but I put two and two together and figured it was somewhere safe. So I guess it wouldn't do any harm if I started asking questions now. "What are you?" I asked bluntly.

Its pace slightly slowed and I noted that we were heading in the direction towards Toluca Lake.

"What I am is a mystery to all mankind." It snarled quite cynically.

Yeah like that helps a whole lot. "I can see that," I said with all intentions doused with sarcasm.

"Of course you can. I'm not questioning your powers of observation Heather."

I made a decisive double take. Why the hell hadn't I noticed before? It _knew_ my name for fucks sake! "Okay hold up. Here's another question for ya big guy. How the hell do you know my name?" I demanded an answer.

The distorted creases on its face spread out unevenly, like it was smiling.

"I beg pardon," Slowly but surely it began to madly twitch like it did before, "It isn't your name."

I gasped as softly as I could. Oh no, don't tell me it knows my _real_ name? Dear God how would it know?

"It's Cheryl Mason."

That's it. I halted right there, yanked my arm from its own and pointed at it rather vigorously. "YOU! How is it possible that a thing like you knows about the _real_ me? It isn't possible." I noticed here was when I began rambling, "But then again I'm in Silent Hill so what the hell am I talking about? Nothing makes sense so I suppose everything would make sense because everyone here is INSANE!" I panted for desperate breath.

I stopped. I hadn't realized until now but it looked a little intimidated. Intimidated? Ha. That or seriously confused. I don't blame him though. _Him_? Did I just say _him_? I don't even know what _it_ is!

"What are you?!" I screeched, pulling and tugging at my short blond hair.

It was nerve wracking not getting the answers you needed at a critical time. Especially in the very place I'm in. But hell, I'm used to it by now. Its hands twiddled and fumbled with each other in a queer way and it looked… no that's impossible. Is it possible? It looked… sad.

Then it finally spoke up, "I don't know what I am."

.

What an answer to give her, my sweet and glorious Heather… Cheryl. _Cheryl_, the name alone ignited fires that I thought never existed before. They were frail but they were very distinct and I was very aware of them. How do I explain what I do not know? How can I tell her that I beckoned her here because I have no one else to accompany me? And how can I tell her that I sent that prying Douglas away, far from Silent Hill so that we will be the only wiser. What is this selfishness? I cannot do this, it's too dangerous, and it's too stupid.

She scared me. _Scared_ me? Taking my arm again and unquestionably resting her lively yellow head on my pale and grimy bicep.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I'm just so confused and I don't know what else to do but ask questions," she cooed, "No one's ever been able to tell me about this town or about these _monsters_."

Monsters? Is that what I am to her? A monster? I reluctantly take my arm away from hers and bow my heavy head in shame. Its queer how she is so afraid of me yet she rests her head upon my arm like I am a pillow of refuge. Humans are filled with utter contradiction. _Monster_.

"Hey don't get all sappy on me, you're the one who's talking in circles and won't explain yourself." She snipped.

She had a point. I knew her answers I just couldn't bring myself to tell her. Especially if she knew that I'm keeping her here for my own selfish needs. And on top of that I'm having a disgustingly hard time with what's going on in this skull of mine. Well, first thing's first. Keep my precious safe.

"I will tell you more when we get to the harbor."

I suppose it wouldn't appear to be the wisest places to be but I of all creatures would know that it is one of the safest. I hardly go there but I know it well enough to be aware that it is the best choice for now and especially since it's getting late. But for the time being it was extremely quiet.

"So you know my name," she said. "I don't even know if you have one. Or if you're even a... _man_."

Man, she thinks I am a man? Well, if she questions it then she must certainly think I am human-like. That brought my aimless attention back into hue.

"In some form I suppose I am a man." It was true. If I had the authority to bring a man life then I am in a way like him. Am I not? "Not fully though as you can tell."

Her gray eyes wandered across my body. She had a sense of weakness again. I could smell and taste it more than ever and it was magnificent.

Then suddenly she looked away, "Then I'm taking a wild guess that you have a name?"

Now we're getting somewhere.

"You may call me Valtiel."

.

Valtiel. What a strange but curious name, Valtiel.

'In some form I suppose I am a man' hmm, this guy definitely has a sense of wit. Ugh, there I go again, a _guy_. But although he's just as creepy as the rest of them he does have a very heavy amount of masculinity about him. _Masculinity_? I skimmed over his bulking arms, built torso, and an overall lengthy height. I felt a hot wave of embarrassment rush over the upper portion of my body. I'm checking him out now? What's next? A peck on the cheek in thanks for saving my life? Wait… where _is_ his cheek?

In the ridiculous commotion of searching for his facial features we had abruptly arrived at our damp and darkening destination. What now? Are we to play summer water games? I hadn't exactly expected for our safe hide out to be the shores of Toluca Lake. But most things in life are unexpected. I guess if they weren't everything would be deathly boring. But this was an immensely different case. I don't know why I'm doing this really; why I'm we're still talking and why I'm still letting him take me wherever he pleases. I suppose it's for company. All for decent company.

"Valtiel?" I cleared my throat, shattering the silence between us, "What exactly are we going to be doing here? If you hadn't noticed before I was trying to get out of this place."

He said nothing in return, merely standing in a stoic and inanimate pose. It's hard to believe that all this time he's been following me, possibly saving my ass all the while until I finally got to Claudia. My lack of experience was beginning to show all of its true and vibrant colors. I'm so stupid. What if he's just playing at me? He coule be trying to get me to trust him and lead me into the awful snares of a trap of some kind. _Boys_. But if so… why hasn't he done it already?

"You must be safe here." The random comeback frightened me a little, I wasn't expecting it. He started more towards the murky water, softly lapping onto the muddy beach.

I mused a little if I should follow him. I mean, this could be his moment of glory, drowning me in the depths of the gothic lake. But again my instincts told me otherwise and I found myself tagging along. And then it hit me, why has he been protecting me?

"You don't have to do this you know. I can take care of myself; I'm a big girl," I said, "Who ever said that you had to protect me."

His heavy shoulders shook in a downwards motion, "Claudia."

What? I guess she was more nuts than I had suspected, "Claudia sent you to protect me? Why? And she's _dead_ Valtiel, why carry out something when—"

"I was ordered to make sure that you birthed her God," he protested, turning to face me. "But I thought otherwise so now I am reassuring your safety."

What the hell could I say to that? Thanks? I don't think so, that's far too creepy for my taste, it's _sweet_ but creepy. Wait, sweet? Wasn't this thing stalking me earlier? Hauling off that nurse and molesting her? _Whoa_, how on earth could that have blown right past me?

"Hey!" I summoned an unknown courage within me and shoved him. "You were fucking those nurses weren't you? Did you think you'd be doing the same to me? Well, I don't think so!" Anger bubbled up and boiled over like it had never done so before. Where is this coming from?

At first he just stood there and did absolutely nothing. And then he laughed. _Laughed?_ Is that possible? In mid snort he began to speak, "_Me_? Rape a nurse? You're barking up the wrong tree, Cheryl."

I scoffed, "Yeah right, then what exactly were you doing if not sexually abusing that—" I had no idea what else to label it besides, "that _thing_."

He slumped onto the sandy bank and I eventually brought myself to sit with him, not too close though. I had a fair distance between us that kept me happy for moment.

"Sex," he spat out rather coldly, "is for the weak minded and bored. I on the other hand am capable of far greater things than _sex_."

Whoa, talk about being sexually deprived. It isn't much of a wonder anymore why he's so stiff and stuffy. But _still_. He hasn't answered me.

"Then what _were_ you doing with her?"

The folds and deformed plastered features began to lively brighten up. "I was rebirthing her. Giving her new life. It's what I do and it's why I am here."

"Rebirthing?—" Hold up. If he has the power to revive people, then… "Valtiel? Did I ever die?"

He remained hushed as if pondering what to say in return. I didn't care though. I needed answers and needed them now. Nothing could ever stop me if he tells me what I think he will tell me. I need to know.

Then, he looked at me and finally responded, "On a few occasions yes."

Oh my God.

_Dad_.

.

.

.

.

**Whoohoo for plot twisters! Yeah! We now know what happened to Douglas but that raises so many new unanswered questions! Will Cheryl stay now? Will Valtiel finally have a friend to share his forever lasting time with? And most importantly… when will the romance kick in?! Reviews are much appreciated!**


	5. Fascinations

The very odd and misplaced expression on her face irked me in the wildest ways that I could not comprehend. What was so fancy about reviving mortals from their certain doom? I am quite sure that her reasons are undoubting though. I had never thought that I would ever possibly be conversing with her, let alone _keeping_ her. Although our swift bantering was distant and incomparable, we shared each other. It took her a while though; to open up that is, but that never signaled me to give in. And so moments soon became minutes and minutes became hours, much to the similarities of my unticking clock that so went by the name of immortality. It all swept by without any other grueling creatures getting in our way. I wouldn't let them.

It was dark now. The blackest nights that I'm sure no other place with the exception of our quaint and quiet Silent Hill has ever seen. She was cold I could tell, cold and—I couldn't entirely say what the other thing was. It was very obvious though, it stuck out sorely and it didn't appear pleasant. It wasn't like watching the creatures of this town bask in their bloody and plump madness, no. It was different and it wasn't pleasing to my eye.

"Is there something wrong, Cheryl?" I asked, emphasizing wrong to an extant that she was insure of my concern.

She avoided the question and began to fiddle with her flashlight, flicking the damn thing on and off, on and off until I grew faintly – irritated. I don't see how she could be so attached to the material object. It was just light, nothing more and nothing less. But I suppose that being mortal has its own laws of queerness.

Then she turned it off all together, not even endeavoring to start again. "I'm so sleepy," she said and to my shock her mouth gaped open wider than I thought imaginable, it was a little frightening. "What?" she questioned, probably noticing my strange flinches that I tried so hard to hide from her.

"What was that you did?" I swallowed, "Just now."

"Uh," she peeped, her sultry eyes searching for an answer. "You mean when I yawned?"

"Yawn?" I thought aloud, slightly shuddering at the actions name. "What's a yawn?"

Her right brow arched up high in question as her lips spread out in a sort of display of happiness. Perhaps this 'yawn' has much to do with 'sleeping' she spoke of just now. It seems I have much to learn these days although I've personally seen far too many. And as I pondered she began to laugh in a mass amount of giddiness. What exactly is happening here?

She rendered more laughter before starting to speak again, "You don't know what a yawn is? Good God and I thought I was the confused one here." She explained. "It's when someone is really tired and it's the body's way of telling the person to go to sleep and get some rest."

It sounded like it made plenty of sense but I was more lost than I thought. But I nodded in respect of understanding and turned to the dark sloshing of the lake water. Shortly after she had loudly cleared her throat in desperate attempt to steal my attention and I, unregretful, allowed her to. "Yes?"

"I'm _tired_." She stated again.

Unaware of what to do, I pathetically looked around in hopes of mending whatever this _tiredness_ was.

"I think it's hardly comfortable to sleep on a beach," she said.

There it was again. The words that I knew no meaning to: sleep and tired. But _resting_, I knew that word quite well and although I had never preformed it I knew plenty of beings who did just that. I needn't any rest when all the lurking and greedy things of this town are out for my Cheryl. Under my own circumstances I'd consider myself mad if I let her rest in a place she felt uncomfortable in. But where else could I take her? I contemplated the park and then the Midwich School but nothing seemed reasonable enough for her mortal standards. And then suddenly I thought of the Hotel, how could I have forgotten? I cannot let this continue if I desire to protect her. _Desire_?

"Is the hotel suitable enough for you? It's just near the dock." I gestured towards the glowering figures a mile or two away from where we were residing.

"That sounds nice," she said now standing. "But I'm still not so sure about this. I barely know you, how do I know that you're not fooling me?"

Not sure? How could she be not sure that I am here for her security, for her protection, for her _company_? I hadn't let anything remotely dangerous happen to her yet have I? Perhaps my message was more bleakly stated than I thought. It seems I will have to try harder to win her over. I rose from the sand and slightly bowed.

"My sole purpose is to serve and protect you, dear Cheryl." I nodded, "I intend to do just that."

Of course that is my purpose. My intention on the other hand differs greatly.

She put up a weak smile that attempted to prove me wrong, or was it to prove her right?

Her gray eyes narrowed, "Alright I'll give you a chance, Valtiel. But no funny business got it?"

An awkward and unfamiliar bubbling sensation whirled in the pit of my abdomen. This felt good.

.

As much as I detest letting him accompany me, I _had_ to for the sake of my Dad. You could say that I plan on using him because I most certainly do. Call it what you wish, it won't matter because first thing tomorrow morning I will find my fathers body. And my new buddy Valtiel _will_ revive him. But the thing that worried me the most was getting involved with him. I will not become attached. Not even for the mere pleasure of company. That will get me nowhere. I'm certain of it.

We had fervently arrived at the stale and abandoned hotel structure, hopelessly searching for a respectable and clean room. Boy was that an adventure. Luckily the cleanest we found was simply cluttered with junk and scrap. To our, or should I say _my_ relief, there wasn't a sign of blood or rust to be found, at least to the naked eye. That eased my tension a little more. And it was that much more of a comfort when it came time for me to crash.

Exhaustion sucks. I lied on top of a scantily clad mattress, rubbing my eyelids and preparing for sleep. But then I quickly took notice of Valtiel's ever so watchful presence hovering beside my bed. So much for comfort zones.

"Aren't you going to sleep too?"

He seemed to stiffen at my words. "I don't need resting. I am without energy and limitless to all—"

"Yeah yeah yeah," I cut him off. Damn he can get pretty annoying and self absorbed really fast. I realized that the moment he began talking. "I get it; you're an all mighty powerful blah blah blah. Just quit looming over me like a watch dog, it bothers me."

He shot back to the wall within seconds. "My apologies," he gurgled.

Jesus, does he have to be so stern and stuffy? I felt a yawn begin to drawl out of my throat and I bit the bottom of my lip and held it back. God forbid I startle him again.

"Why don't you explore around or kill some monsters, whatever it is that you do while I catch some shut eye, Val? It'll keep you busy since you're too cool for sleep." I suggested.

His broad and pale shoulders slumped and he remained unreadable. He was so stoic and unnatural but it was so fascinating to watch him, to hear him, to—I don't know if I like where this is going.

He scuttled forwards a little, saying "_Val?_"

"Umm, yeah," I blinked, "Does that bug you if I call you that?"

"No!" he protested.

Wincing at his loud remark I didn't say much of anything after that and I was very hesitant about sleeping now. But my sore and shaky body had different intentions that my mind could not refuse. I was tired. And I was fading out fast, eyelids drooping more and more by the very second. Gotta find Dad tomorrow. My eyes shut closed for good as my head met the mattress. Gotta find Dad.

.

Her direct orders were to keep away from her. It _bothered_ her. How? How could that be possible? I cannot truly be the monster she sees me as. I am not. I suppose it will take much more than protecting her to figure out exactly how she works. Like the misinterpretation of our town, she has been misled to an extreme about me. I slouched back to the wall again. _I_ don't even know about me.

Weakly raising my head I glance over her curled up figure, asleep. Her details were intoxicating, mesmerizing, fragile, breakable, _fascinating_. Her short velvety blond locks resembled her short and fiery temper. I noted not to upset her now.

_Val_.

By what unearthly means caused her to call me, _Val_? I chuckled softly. What an extraordinary creature my Cheryl is. Undeniably extraordinary.

I twiddled with my crimson gloved fingers, fumbling with an imaginary flashlight just the way she had done. Explore around? What sort of foolish challenge is that? Kill a monster. Done and sealed and I don't plan on repeating that again unless necessary for her protection. But to innocently and naively _explore_? Where was the fascination in that? I know the beings and corpses, the twists and turns, the nooks and crannies of Silent Hill. Why else should I explore if not defend my Cheryl.

I gazed at her serene and innocent state of rest. She _must_ trust me now enough to let her guard down in my presence.

For that I think I shall return the favor. Besides, something peculiar caught my eye on the way here.

.

.

.

.

**No need to fret, I'm back for more. I apologize for taking so long to update and I'm afraid that these updates will take longer now due to real life issues. _Gasp_, yes I have a life too. It wasn't as long as I hoped it to be but I love how it's turning out and dare I say that the next chapter will be a little longer.**

**Poor Valtiel. Yawns are his enemies. Hiss.**

**Thank you for reading! Reviews are much appreciated!**


	6. no chapter

**Move along my lovely peoples, there's nothing to see here.**

**For those of you who are new to PET, don't worry about what used to be in this chapter, it was a crying shame is what it was.**

**And for those of you who are very familiar with PET, you know what went down on my midfic crisis here. I removed "Save PET" because it was glaring at me like a freakishly ugly pimple and I needed to pop it immedietley. Now that it's popped... I am pleased. Hypothetical pimple popping pleases me. Now let's move along.**

**P.S. something wicked this way comes. I'll give you a hint... it's a chapter.**

**~ darkkfaery**


	7. Impaled From The Inside Out

I had the most terrifying dream last night. The weird part about it was that all I could remember throughout it, was that Valtiel was with me.

Why I was terrified, I didn't know. Why Val was in my dreams in the first place, I didn't know either.

I raised my body from this familiar scantily clad mattress and brought my knees to my chest in comfort at the rude awakening. I've had these unknown nightmares for the past few nights now. My dreams as of late have been hell. Hell on earth. A lot like Silent Hill I guess. Stupid right? Shouldn't it be the other way around? Silent Hill has become calm now that I've returned. It's nothing as I remember it as. Less monsters. Less fear. Hell, less _fog_. And that is what really freaked me out. This damn cursed town lacking its unearthly fog? Something just wasn't right. But... it _was_ right.

Everything isn't so surreal anymore. It's almost serene.

Can that be? Can I possibly be at peace in Silent Hill?

Fuck. Maybe Val slipped me an immortal valium or something. I can't believe I just thought that I was at peace in Silent Hill. Sick.

I peered around the apartment and noticed that I was alone... again. Okay, call me weird or whatever, but ever since I told the stuffy guy to buzz off, he's... well... buzzed off. I didn't think it'd be that easy to get him off my case, because it was. I ordered him away and that's just what he did. He'd come back of course. It's just that, that big ol' lug isn't around as much and I don't have company anymore.

I hate myself for feeling lonely. Shouldn't I be feeling great about that? I guess not. I mean, he _is_ by means the only creature here that can bring me back Dad. Yeah. That makes sense.

But I _swear_ that's the only reason why I feel alone right now... right?

Whatever.

Ew!

How can I just freaking notice that I've been wearing the same damn clothes for how many days now?! That's just wrong. Disgusting. Unclean. Bloody. Rusty. Sweaty. Gross. JUST GROSS!

I shuddered and picked and pried at my once-white vest and forest green skirt. This is nasty. I need some new clothes dammit. Oh, I wonder if the room might have any spare clothing? Feeling the revolting urge to get into a fresh attire, I went to the nearest closet and opened it. To my relief, there before me were neatly clean clothes hanging from a few hangers. Smells like mothballs but whatever, it's better than blood. I pulled out the cutest thing I could find (which consisted of a burgundy tank top and a black pleaded skirt) and headed straight for the shower.

I removed my once-white vest, orange turtle neck, forest green skirt, underwear, and my ugg-ish boots.

The pattering and splashing of water resounded once I started the shower. It was a soothing sound. I need something soothing right now. The water was hot when I entered the curtain-less bath tub. I winced at first but then let my flush body get accustomed to the feel. Damn. It feels good to get clean. I swear, sometimes I feel like the blood spatter will never fade from my skin. Although it does, it doesn't help the fact that I only want to shower again and again to rid the awful feel of killing.

They're monsters though. I shouldn't feel bad. But I do. I shouldn't. I fucking shouldn't. Those bastards killed Dad... God I can feel tears coming on.

I put my face into the nozzle of the shower head and let the hot water scold away tears that I didn't want falling. I've cried too damn much. I think it's about time I do something about my sorrow. I'm not some airhead damsel in distress. I'm Cheryl Heather Mason for crying out loud. Dad wouldn't want me like this. He'd want me to fight... hmm... funny how he got a fighter for a daughter.

Dad... are you proud of me?

I sighed. I guess I'll never know until I somehow persuade Valtiel to revive him. Well, we've got to find him first. Or maybe he already knows where he is? That would be fantastic! I've got to remember to ask Val that when I see him again and...

Whoa.

Am I...

...thinking about Val...

... in the shower?

Naked?

I need another shower after this one.

"C-Cheryl?"

_... Oh ... My ... God_

Am I dreaming? Am I having another nightmare? Because the last time I checked, I'm terrified out of my mind and if I'm correct, Valtiel's here.

I swallowed, hoping it was just my imagination as I turned to face the doorway.

Valtiel stood there shaking and twitching like he had done long ago.

Oh shit.

Reality _just_ kicked in.

"AHHH! GET OUT! GET OUT!"

I covered my chest and turned to the side to shield my front that was already exposed. I felt my face go crimson when Valtiel jolted at my scream and ran stumbling out of the bathroom. When I shut off the water, I could hear him whine incoherent words in the other room.

UGH! Could my situation get any worse?

I really hope that statement doesn't come around and bite me in the ass.

Oh fuck he saw my ass too.

Daddyyyyyy.

.

Is this the part where I'm supposed to speak dull careless words? I thought it would be that part.

It apparently isn't that part.

Cheryl I... Oh my. I doubt she'll trust me after that intrusion. She. I. Me. Her. Water. Skin... _so much skin_.

What?

What is this? What is the meaning of this outburst from me? These thoughts and feelings are repulsive. This is expected from some lowly being like the red pyramid... but _me_? Valtiel? The attendant of God? The servant of Cheryl Mason... Cheryl, I feel... imperfect. I feel – why are my loins hot?

"_No_" I scold myself aloud. "No. No. No. You are better than this. Better than humans. Better than simple pleasures. Better than weaknesses."

Weaknesses. Haven't I had enough of these petty thoughts before? My sole existence is now for Cheryl. To protect and ensure her safety... not to admire her beauty. Oh. Somehow, I don't think I can help that part of me. She's something endearing. Something worth while. Is that wrong of me to think that way? Wait. What am I saying? How can I do wrong? How can I do right? How can she so easily bring me to my knees? Weak. _Fragile_.

How can I overcome this?

"Val?" I hear her rich decadent voice summon me.

I feel my cold blood turn warm and I can't help but start to twitch again. My patchwork head winds and bobs towards her and I reluctantly take a peak at my Cheryl. Thank God she's clothed. Oh, she's found a different apparel. It suits her somehow. Somehow... that skin... such skin... pure skin.

"Valtiel?" she asks again. This time, I collect myself and cease my convulsions. Her beautifully shaped face eased at that. That made something _elated_. She rubbed her arm and bit her lip in what seemed to be anxiety, saying "Val. Let's pretend that didn't happen okay? I've got enough things on my mind as it is. Well... I have something to ask of you anyway, if you don't mind of course."

My shameful head perked up at that. "Anything for you, Cheryl. But please, forgive me for intruding on such a private routine of yours. It was accidental. I meant no harm by it."

"Right. Don't mention it... _really_." She paused and didn't look at me for the longest time. There was something strange in her expression. I couldn't name it. Then, she started again. This time, she looked at me. _Through_ me.

"What would you say if I asked you to bring somebody back for me? Are you that loyal of a servant? Or are you just here for your sick amusement?"

Amusement? Hardly, Cheryl.

Perhaps for my discretion in study. But never for simple amusement.

"I am you're guardian." I reassured her in all honesty. "I cannot do everything you wish of me. But I will do everything that I can. And this, dear Cheryl, I am more than capable of doing."

Cheryl hiccupped. It was odd. It was sudden. And it made something in the rotting flesh beneath my chest clench tightly. My chest was heavy.

Why was it heavy?

Her cerulean eyes glossed and liquid diamonds dribbled down her rosy cheeks.

I noted that my heavy chest went into an overdriving feel. It felt pierced. Gouged_. Fascinating_. It wasn't as inspiring though. It was an awful fascination. It was strange. So so so strange. She cried before me and yet she was smiling. Smiling? What is this? I don't understand her actions. She is... sad. No? If so... why should she show a gesture of happiness? Cheryl. You are so complex. So intriguing. What are you doing to me?

Her body went limp and she crumbled to the floor. She held her mourning face in her hands as she wept her poor mortal heart out.

I stared unmoving, unnerving, unknowing of what to do. What could I do? What _should_ I do? I'm... unsure. I've never been so regrettably unsure before. Clearly, she yearns for me to bring back her father. That I can do. There is no problem in that. All I need is his body. What more can she ask of me? What more could I do for her? Revive her parent? Revive whoever she wishes? I would resurrect every eternally damned soul if that is what would please her. I would do anything for her. Anything. That frightens me. I would do _anything_. Should I be concerned about thinking that?

As I contemplated this, Cheryl leapt from the floor and flung her arms in a lock around my middle. My still head went dizzy and she nuzzled her wet face deeper into the rusty material of my ceremonial smock. Oh precious. You'll dirty that clean face of yours doing this. What are you doing anyhow?

My red gloved fingers lifted her chin upwards. Her sobs had stifled and so did her tears. She sniffled and looked at me in the most peculiar fashion. Her arms were still around me and my fingers still at her chin.

Curious.

My shaky fingers danced along her jaw, feeling along her cheek, feeling along her skin. Smooth skin. Such skin. Pure skin. Somehow, the image of her without clothes entered my mind. I didn't do a damn thing about it to rid the thought either. Should I be concerned for that too?

Arms unlocked. The warmth from her around my waist was gone. The hot hands traveled north across my pathetically wound-less, impaled chest. Both of her delicate hands found themselves at the sides of my patchwork stitched face. I stared at her. She stared at me. I feel weak. She's controlling me. I'm letting her. I, the puppet. She, the puppeteer. She rose on the tips of her toes and placed her quivering lips on a little groove at the top of my head. My knees buckled. Her arms locked again.

She caught me.

My God...

I feel...

...fucked.

_Slap!_

That... that _hurt _dammit.

"What's wrong with you?" she screeched.

_What?! _I massaged the burning spot on my orange tinged raunchy cheek and seethed in anger.

No. Calm yourself. Calm... can't... find... a happy... place.

"I have done nothing wrong."

"You kissed me!"

"You kissed _me_." I protested reasonably.

"You-" she referred with a finger pointed at me. "You've done something haven't you? You slipped me a mind controlling roofie, didn't you? I can't believe I just let myself do that. Just..."

I shut her lips with mine... err, something I think are my lips at least. Her face reddened but her posture softened. Hypocrisy. Such brilliantly ignorant hypocrisy.

Wait... I'm... kissing Cheryl. _Again_.

I let her go and turned away. My God. What was I thinking? I wasn't thinking. How could I have preformed such a ridiculously human gesture? I'm weak. I'm so fucking weak. I'm... _becoming_...

"Valtiel."

I quickly turned again. A little too quick of a response for my taste. Oh well. Cheryl? She looks...

"I just want my Dad. That's all I ask of you. Nothing more. Nothing less. I don't want anything else from you. _You have no other meaning to me than that_. Just give me my Dad back. Please."

Oh.

Ah.

Yes.

"Anything for you, Cheryl."

"_Heather._" She hissed.

"Heather." I repeated with a nod and a heavy chest.

Why is my chest heavy?

So heavy.

.

.

.

.

**VOILA! An update! Holy shit! Crazy right? Eh. I know its short. No worries though. Its meant to be like this. So DON'T WORRY, there's much more to come following. By the way, I _just_ realized that there's only like four or five Heather/Valtiel stories out there. That's not right. That's just not cool. C'mon people! I shouldn't be the only one! Meh. That's what I get for liking pairings that aren't mainstream... not that I'm complaining about that. So enjoy this rare fiction, my lovely readers!**

**And don't go bashing Heather just yet. She's got her selfish reasons... just like her man... thing. And Val, you gotta wash that potty mouth of yours. Tsk. Tsk.**

**Thank you EVERYONE for such encouraging motivation! PET is back in business. Seriously. Thank you. And gomen nasai (Sorry)! If I ever go on a hiatus again, I'll let you guys know. That was so horrible of me to have done to you. SORRYYY! -Red Pyramid whacks me upside the head for saying sorry too much- RP: *realizes author is out cold* "Oooooh yeaaah."**


	8. Magdalena

Some time ago, I liked to think I was an intelligent, marvelous creature, capable of many things. Both great and terrible. I liked to think that I was once an entity that knew no bounds to life in a nutshell. But I do not muse so simply anymore. I am not as pomp. I am not as intelligent or as marvelous either. Now, I am nothing but a dutiful arch angel plummeting from the Silent irksome beyond and I have been completely obliterated by _one, simple_, _woman_.

I am not a foolish creature. I may be curious and question the things that Heather teaches me, the revelations she makes me discover, but that does not make me naive. It does not make me brittle -mortal- like her. I know she uses me. I am very aware of this. Yet would I abandon her for it? Never. It frightens me how far I will go. How far _will_ I go? Such boundaries I have crossed in order to protect her. It's taking up every bit of me to do so. But that doesn't concern me. _She_ does. Heather. My sweet inkling, Heather Cheryl Mason. Doubted, I don't feel ashamed for using her in return. Eating her up. Spitting her back out. Savoring, relishing, praising the new decadent flavors and colors she brings into my world. And by the holiest of alters, I am rendered intoxicated by her colorful taste.

And yet, she wants nothing to do with me. I could never blame her for feeling this way. There is an unmistakable absolution between our polar purposes. I want her and she wants her father. This man that I envy, a stupid cadaver, dead flesh that I wish I was instead. And I do not wish. I've never wished before crossing her. Why should I yearn wishful thinking when I lack the greed of man, the swell of desire, the human heart? She possesses me to obsess her every move, her very core. Perhaps seeing her truth makes me weaker. But seeing her unclothed makes me stronger. Whatever it is that turns my mind, these countless nights continue to skim, and we grow closer and closer to Harry._ Harry..._

"His body lies in the bowels of Silent Hill," I told her one night beneath a veil of thinning fog and quaint retribution. I could no longer stand her weeping, her bouts of anger, her sheer refusal to seek the correct answers. Then, I felt what could have been obligation. I became compelled to ease her sufferings as best I could. Even more now. "Once we reach him, you can have him, and I'll leave you to the life you had before coming here."

She looked at me hard and true, unphased and steady. "I've always been here" she said evenly.

I never expected her to say that. But it was true. She came here of her own free will with Harry. She's died here, lived here, rebirthed here time and time again. Why have I never thought about this before? Heather is undeniably a child of Silent Hill. Tempest. Little wayward budding thorn. We didn't speak for days after this short conversation.

But when our voices kept each other company again, it was for the better, for once.

.

"Have you always been like this?"

I'm still fucking mad that he saw me in the shower. It seems like ages ago but it also doesn't. It won't escape my mind either way. He won't get away with it _that_ easily. But I was tired. Sore from walking and bored with nothing else to do but accept the cold gray town that I can come to terms with calling home. Sure, I'm still upset. Sure, I want my Dad to kick his ass to hell and back for being a polite pervert. But I can't, _won't_ lose the little sanity I have left from not sharing a decent conversation with something that will actually respond.

"Always been like what?" he gestured for me to further explain myself.

"You know," I shrugged and adjusted my new boots, soothing the irritated pink at the balls of my feet. "All philosophical and shit. I mean, its not like you stop to have tea with mannequins from time to time just to discuss rearranging furniture or the reason why the sun sets red. Well, if there was a sun here to begin with anyway."

I waited for him to laugh. I pictured him as the epitome of macabre sophistication, chuckling and stroking imaginary whiskers. Hell, I threw a top hat and tobacco pipe in there too. But he didn't stir, not once. I giggled nervously to break the stifled ice and he did nothing. He sat still and eerie on the park bench beside me, leaving me to rest as he contemplated whatever his answer would be. Awkward could definitely begin to describe how I felt at this point.

Then, from out of nowhere, he says "No" and twitches slightly. Confirmation complete.

"I was vile and mindless once," he continues before I could say anything else. "I obeyed every command and bent over backwards to connect the door from this place to yours. I lurked in rust and fed from nothing but chaos. Heather, I'm sure that there is a correct time and a correct place to love ones own life. You will have many opportunities like this. I won't. You have the choice to live and to leave. I do not. 'Philosophical and shit' I may pretend to be, but let me assure you that I am not."

My heartstrings throbbed and I frowned. Sometimes I say stupid shit. Things I don't mean to say but I say it anyway because that's what I feel. I'm still an emotional wreck of a seventeen year old. I don't mean things like when I told Valtiel I only needed him for bringing my father back and nothing else. I regret that now. I don't want to. But I'm only human and he's not. He watches me and protects me and cares for me, that stupid freaking idiot. Why does he have to go and start feelings he's never had before? He'll only get himself hurt like this. He'll hurt me in return then, and I know it. I just know it. It wouldn't work. It wouldn't.

"I'm a monster, remember?"

I look at him, watch his eyeless patchwork face and can't help but agree. He has too much when I have so little. I don't want to submit or even admit giving into his sappy fuck up of an everlasting life. I won't. It's not worth it, Heather. Love doesn't exist where the Gods are birthed via vomit and Love won't happen between something that's real and something that wants to be real. I don't fucking believe in fairy tales or happy endings when Silent Hill is out and about, thirsty and feverish for prisoners. But I see him breathe occasionally when he's never been capable of breathing before and when he does... I want to keep him all to myself. Tight on a leash.

When I see that he's become worried that I don't answer, I shift myself closer beside him until the sides of our arms and legs touch. Valtiel's body jerks like mad and his chest caves in and rises out rapidly now.

"If you're the monster and I'm the heroine, doesn't that mean that you'll eventually gobble me up for breakfast? I don't think you're a monster Val. No. But you sure are a sad excuse for one, that's for sure."

His surge of panic stilled. Valtiel tilts his head and I'm suddenly on the sidewalk. I blink fast and realize that he's pinned me to the ground. His crimson gloved hands are course and bruising my wrists and he's leering me down with eyeless terror, smothering me with his weight and there's a frighteningly large bulge pressing into my thigh and shit, I might be enjoying this. I thought so until the hold on my wrists became unbearable, excruciating. I attempted to struggle free, wanted to go for the knife in my boot but I looked up and my hands are already purple and cold. An aggressive, awful noise came out of his throat and I grimaced, reeling away from him as best I could when I couldn't move very much at all. And when my ribs felt like snapping, Valtiel made it _very_ clear that this wasn't foreplay.

"You're hurting me!" I wriggle and writhe and kick and the sane thing in him is now a very distant star.

He doesn't move. Doesn't respond. Doesn't do anything but keep the pressure against me until the cool of his body becomes hellishly hot.

"Stop it!" I kicked him again. "I said stop it, Val!" And again. "Valtiel, enough." Getting dizzy. "Please... stop."

I want to be able to control him. To tame the beast in one swift movement but that's fairy tale bullshit and as far as I'm concerned, Little Red Riding Hood didn't have the hots for the wolf and I'm more than sure that the wolf didn't want to keep her as his pet. Reality is a bitch and according to popular belief, so is revenge. Maybe I deserve this? Maybe I'm better off this way. I deserve to die for real for ever thinking that I could cheat death and live to brag about it, live on to keep my Dad and forget this evil fucking town, forget that I ever felt anything at all for the thing on top of me that was loving me to death, in some scary kind of way.

I rasped, trying to gulp for air when I wasn't even close to achievement. I felt my eyes roll and the last thing I thought before I surrendered completely was "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em".

"Valtiel." My voice was hushed but I made damn sure it was unrelenting. I meant business too. "If you're gonna kill me. _Kill me_. Don't be a tease."

He seemed repulsed, confused when I said this. The moment he's puzzled, he pulls away enough to the point where I can breathe properly again. And when my vision returned, I slipped free from his hold and dug my fingers into the collar of his dirty smock, pulling him back down to me again. He says something, it's probably true and snobbish, but I shut him up with my mouth and I can't remember why I never did this the right way the first time. I kiss the seam on the low of his face and kiss it again and again until it parts slightly and a familiar muscle slides between my lips. He has a tongue. I _knew_ it.

I didn't bask in the glory of knowing he had a tongue for very long, I was far too busy fondling it with my own to care. There must be rules that I'm breaking. Satisfaction doesn't come this fucking good in Silent Hill. Not when Val is kissing me back, not when his hands are roaming me freely, not especially when I'm aching for him more than ever. This has to be too good to be true when we're not fighting for once. I don't care. Not if its true or untrue. I wrap my legs around his slender hips and kiss him harder. He groans and grinds and I squeeze him tighter, kiss him deeper. This is wrong. I rake my nails up his spine and sigh against the thing that is something along the lines of a mouth. It _has _to be wrong.

Right?

Valtiel moves suddenly and screams. He screams. I've never heard him do this. The new noise was alien to me. I stared wide eyed and something splatters and drips across my lips and down my neck, along my chest. I realize what it is by taste first before realizing what it was visually. It's coppery and bitter. He's holding me at painful lengths again and I can see why. The pipe that had impaled clean through his chest made me gasp, it made me cringe sympathetically as he weakly rolled off of me. Too good to be true was right. My surroundings came back to reality and there were hundreds of nurses around us, following thousands upon thousands of more various hungry creatures starved stupid and craving blood. Whoa. He's bleeding.

I took the knife quick from my boot and flicked it at the nurse that attacked Valtiel, it sunk in her throat and she crumbled to the floor in an instant. "You're bleeding!" I can't think of anything else to say. I can't help it when I'm surrounded by certain death. "You _bleed_? For fuck's sake, Valtiel, what else haven't you told me? This immortal farce isn't going to get you anywhere if you're gonna bleed all over me and expect me to be wooed at the same time!" I wipe my mouth of his blood and fetch the semi-automatic from my other boot.

"You're not helping.." he moans, twisting out the pipe and screaming more of that foreign noise that drives me up the wall.

I'm trigger happy once more, shooting round after round until finally there's a route of escape. The clip comes out and its full again in a second. He's in my arms again, but this time I help him limp to safety. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you over the sound of me helping."

.

I felt so ridiculous half slung over Heather as she lead me away to a portion of town that was empty and seemingly free of danger. I felt like the damsel this time when it should have been the other way around. I'm relieved she isn't hurt. I'm also thankful Heather can take care of herself, take care of me.

I don't know what happened. What was I thinking? I'm not thinking again. I could have seriously hurt her. But she made me... she made me so unbelievably upset. I never want for her to underestimate my unnatural viciousness. Anything could happen, and I could snap back to my old way. I wouldn't care then. But I do now. I really do now. She is more than everything I thought I knew about longing and the feel of obtaining it is so otherworldly. I want her mouth on mine again. I want her beneath me and on me and every other way imaginable. She's dug her way into me so far that I know her taste and her touch and as much pain as I'm enduring, I don't care because Heather's mine.

"Something's wrong." She sets me down against the back of a building in a quiet lone alley. Her jacket suppresses me from further bleeding out once she fashioned it into a tourniquet around my heaving torso. Her beautiful features looked very close to crying. "You couldn't get hurt before. But... you... something's really wrong. Isn't it?"

There was no further denying what was happening. I couldn't send the creatures away. I didn't even sense their presence. I've become injured for the first time and I never thought that pain was as uncomfortable and unbelievable until I've felt it now. Heather was right. There was something seriously wrong happening to me. I've absorbed myself so much into mortality I think... I'm becoming a part of it. And if that is the circumstance, then there is no hope of bringing her father back. There isn't the slightest sliver of a chance in the world that I could possibly make her happy again. And she _was_ happy -with me- even if it was only for a brief moment. But being like this, who could tell if I would become mindless and vicious instead. I would sooner die than harm Heather for real. Mortality and brutality was not in my job description. I was not made for it.

Then something in her disposition changed abruptly once my mind was set on what needed to be done, even if I didn't want it at all. Heather knelt before me and took my hand. It was the first time I had ever really examined her hands this closely. Hers was so much smaller than mine and her fingertips did a little number on my palm before she clasped ours together entirely. She looked at me and smiled bravely through tears. "You'll be okay," she said softly, cleaning my smock to busy her other hand. "Damn. I wonder why they all came at once. It's so strange that this happened so fast. Maybe they knew about us. Or maybe..." her tears for me were flowing now and she smiled again. "You'll be okay, Val. I don't think it pierced your... your heart."

I passed my free hand through her wonderful yellow hair and let it fall to her cheek, wiping tears in its wake. "I'll be fine, Heather. Don't worry."

She lunged at me, hugging me and crying against me. It hurt but I relished her touch more. Having her so close again let the aching hole in my chest forget its terrible agony altogether. My arms eventually found a way to cradle her and something in me promised to relinquish all the demons she's ever known. She's soft and warm, loving and everything that I am not. I held her close to me and wondered how much pain _she'll_ be in once I tell her what needs to be done.

"I'll fix you" she said sleepily and shortly after succumbed to slumber.

Some kind of awful pang in my chest roused and it wasn't from the wound. I'm beginning to wonder whether obsession is the right word for what I feel.

I don't want to hurt her, but I'm going to have to.

She curled against me and slept soundly. I enjoyed this for as long as I possibly could until I could no longer stay awake either.

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**Originally, when I was writing this chapter, I wasn't intending on leaving an Author's Note. I thought, oh well, they know the drill. I'm full of dumbass excuses and you guys are full of awesome appreciation to this story. But I figured that another apology was seriously needed. I'm sorry. Another year and another too long of a wait chapter update. This year has been crazy. Scary fucking crazy. I've lost some friends and I've lost some idols. And old ghosts have come back to haunt the shit out of me. Let's not forget recreational time. That was on my scary fucking crazy plate too.**

**In a sum of its parts, PET is the anti-drug/self-assurance that I should've kept in mind throughout 2010. But let's not get too serious here XD not all of this year was bad. I'm on a road of self discovery, of self creation and I am so proud of PET and all of you amazing people who have kept up with my shit for so long, that goes for the newcomers too. THANK YOU. Val and Heather take a bow for YOU this time. I can't promise that this story will go on much farther, because believe it or not, its very close to the end. And let me tell you, I'm sad to hear that too DX but don't fret precious! I'll make it worth your while. I promise.**

**P.S. you have every right to maim me if I update in another year. Haaahaha kidding. I'm finishing this story if it kills me. Red Pyramid will kill me if it doesn't.  
**

**P.P.S. is it getting hot in here?  
**


	9. One More Soul To The Call

"_I'll fix you_" _she said sleepily and shortly after succumbed to slumber_.

Heather, my sacred pet. I am infamous and without end. I do not need to be fixed.

_You_ on the other hand are damaged and wrought with flaws and coming undone. Nothing would please me more than to fix you most of all. Make you like me. To completely mold you in my image, that would be impossible, but I cannot stop myself from imagining it anyway because you are made to be worshiped. You grieve and you fight and you _breathe_. Your flaws and your imperfections cannot be helped and that's why I won't ever dare fix you. You are truly a splendor to behold. And to hold you until there is not a breath left in you would be the beginning of something wild and shameless. For the both of us.

But really, I can only fool myself for so long.

Keeping you, Heather, is as tangible as Silent Hill itself.

"_I'll fix you._"

"Valtiel would you wake the fuck up already?" came the lovely sound of Heather's feisty voice. It lulled me from sleep to wake very swiftly. I was still resting on her lap, not really minding that I was bleeding profusely and soiling her crimson shirt with a darker scarlet. She smiled, irritated, as I bled on her some more.

"I can't believe you knocked out, you scared me half to death. Don't ever black out again. Seriously. What if you went vegetative? I have honestly exhausted all possibilities of what's going on here and I still don't understand a damn thing. So please, do me a favor and stay conscious for the time being so I can at least have someone to talk to."

I don't mind fooling myself a little while longer. "Yes my lady, anything for you."

She pouted a little and crossed her arms. "Ha-ha. Look who suddenly acquired a funny bone."

I begin to sit up, but I cannot. I want to ask how long I have been out but my throat tightens and my chest twists inwardly. Heather places her hand on my shoulder and refuses to let me move at all. Then I realize we aren't crammed in the back way of an alley hiding from nurses or mannequins or anything else. We're in another hotel. A smaller, dapper, cleaner one.

"Val," Heather says softly and swings her legs from beneath me and leaves only her hand touching me as she sits beside me on the bed. "You are so smug and arrogant and self righteous. You constantly tell me that you're this mysterious agent of god that means to protect me. But you're so full of yourself sometimes. You aren't immortal. You've been gravely injured."

I look down at my chest. It's been freshly wrapped with off white linen but a rusty red has already begun to seep through. I don't say anything because she is correct. Something is... wrong with me. I am not perfect anymore. And I am no longer indestructible. I am nothing like what I once was before her.

There's a strange expression on Heather's angular freckled face. She has lost the brightness in her eyes, they are clouded and lost and I am to blame for this. I know what she must be thinking. How can I possibly help her bring her father back now when I can hardly help myself? Heather glances up at me and swallows, blinking the majority of the lostness away.

Then she surprises me for another time.

"We've got a new objective Valtiel. We're getting you help."

"Your father," I say with protest.

A bitter snarl curls her lip for a brief moment. "My father... it's been days, weeks. I don't even know what month it is. We still haven't found him. But for now, I'm seeing to it that you stay alive. Otherwise everything else would be pretty damn pointless. Don't you think?"

I'm thinking that I think a lot differently now. Harry may be more important to her than I am, but I can't very well revive him in this current condition.

I agree with her and she stands, pivots on her heels and opens a dresser drawer on the nightstand beside the bed. Heather pulls out a thick sheet of paper and unfolds it. I raise my head and stiffen at the sight of a map of Silent Hill. She must believe that I am dying or untrustworthy because she keeps it to herself and appears to be very familiar with where she wants to go.

"Where are we going?" I think aloud. I wonder what place she thinks will benefit my recovery. Most definitely not Brookhaven Hospital. Our last trip there proved to be dangerous and suicidal.

"_I'm_ going to collect some more things before we head out. Right now you aren't going anywhere."

A feeling of what humans might call... _anxiety_ courses through me. I feel severely betrayed as well. "You can't be serious Heather."

Heather loads her black pistol and stares me down. "I've taken care of myself so far, haven't I? Besides, I dragged your sorry ass here without a problem. Do me a favor Valtiel and quit being so overprotective for just a little while. Here," she tosses me something and starts out the door. "This should distract you while I'm out. Have fun. I'll be back soon."

When the apartment door clicks shut I look down at the thing in my hands. It's her radio. I've seen her use it constantly to warn her, should a creature be in her presence. But on the rare occasion I would watch her twist the dials until some noisy thing called music would chime from its speakers. On quiet days she would curl up in an abandoned room and play it as softly as it allowed. It entertained her from time to time, so I suppose I can understand why she thinks it would entertain me.

I hold it for a little while longer and wonder if it is safe to use. Then I realize this could be keeping her alive as opposed to keeping me busy. I try to move again but to no avail. What were you thinking Heather?

An hour or so has passed and nothing can keep me from worrying about her. She could be in trouble. Cornered. Tortured. Dead. This is far from fun, as far as her definition of fun goes. But her words echo through my skull, she wants me to cease being overprotective for a little while. That must seem so easy for her. It is far from easy for me, particularly when my sole purpose is to prevent her from harm.

Overpowering waves of concern come crashing over me again and again without mercy or sign of retreat. Perhaps distraction will help like she said it would, so I take the old plastic device and hold it up at arms length, suspecting it would combust at any moment. My gloved three digits pinch at the puny dials and twist them until static noise leaks from the speakers.

Well, that's not so bad. I leave the station of static alone and place the radio on my lap. It plays the same hissing scratchy noise for a long while and I begin to wonder why it doesn't sound the same as when Heather would play it. I look at it some more and decide to turn the dials again. Suddenly a loud squeal emits that causes me to jolt. Immediately after the squealing ends, a soft melodic tune resounds.

A man's voice follows the melody. "_Whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am home again. Whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am whole again_.

"_However far away, I will always love you. However long I stay, I will always love you. Whatever words I say, I will always love you. I will always love you_."

I feel my head slowly tilting to one side.

Love... I will have to add this new word to my vocabulary.

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Who was I kidding? Telling Valtiel it was no problem getting him from point A to point B. Ha! It was sure as hell no walk in the park. Sure, I got us safely to the Blue Creek apartments without getting either of us maimed or killed in the process. But it was not easy. I'm more than happy to have a fighter in me. If not, I wouldn't be alive now. And after just going back to Brookhaven Hospital (which was the most stupid idea in the history of mankind) I should be even more pleased to have this inner fire that got me in and out of the hospital alive.

I managed to retrieve a Jurassic albeit functional wheelchair, two first aid kits, more ammo, some food and water from the Texxon gas station, antibiotics, and plenty of sterile gauze. I felt pretty damn lucky with what I could get my hands on. There were more creatures this time around. I wasn't sure if it was because of our last visit there or just because they flocked to that spot out of random choice. Whatever the case, I barely ditched the building by the skin of my teeth.

I'm relieved that I made Val sit this one out. He would have caused more trouble than he would help. Even if he does mean good. Thinking on this, an awful feeling of regret overcame me. I stopped wheeling the old chair and glanced around the streets of Silent Hill to make sure I was not being followed. When I felt safe enough, I let myself have a moment of quiet mourning. I meant what I said about putting Valtiel's needs before my father's. He is gone after all. Maybe there is no good to come out of chasing a fantasy that won't come true if the one creature here that can help me is hemorrhaging.

There's a slight stirring in the corner of my eye and I draw out the katana strapped to my hip. I swing to where this movement occurred and come up slicing nothing but air. My reflexes are sharp and perfected at this point but my paranoia needs some honing. I stare down my own reflection in the glass window of some town shop. I'm breathing heavy and my hair is wild like the bristled neck of an angry dog. I look like hell.

There's nothing beautiful at what I'm seeing before me. It is violent and hateful and vicious. There is little to nothing left in the reflection that resembles my father's daughter. So I tear my gaze away from the disheveled girl in the window, sheathe my sword, and push the wheelchair onward.

It isn't long before I reach the hotel where I left Val. I shake off the remainder of the haunting mirrored version of me and at last enter the room. What awaits me inside, I would have never guessed in a million years. The door swings open and there on the bed is Valtiel waving his arms and swaying his head rather skillfully to the soft rock blaring from the radio in his lap. When I laugh, this grabs his attention and he freezes, he quickly stops his little dance at once.

"Oh don't stop on my account," I laugh a little harder and shut the door behind me. "Well well well. I always pegged you to be a Bach kind of a guy, but I was wrong, Depeche Mode suits you much better."

He looks flustered. Valtiel cuts the cord on the song Precious and clears his throat. "Are you alright?"

"Very."

"What is that for?" he points to the chair and the things sitting in it.

"For you, duh."

This shuts him up. I take the things I need and sit next to him. As I'm getting a fresh change of bandages and setting out a needle and thread, Valtiel does us both a favor and carefully slips his strong arms out of his smock. He unbinds himself and discards the soiled linen to the floor.

"Careful." I say, trailing off as Val pushes his smock down until it bunches around his hips. Beneath his clothes is a lean and muscular torso defined so impeccably... I don't mind that he's caked with dirt and blood at all.

I gulp, watching him disinfect the raw cavity along his chest. He hisses in pain and I grab at anything to snap me out of the daze. I should be doing this, not him. A needle finds its way into one hand and the thread is wrapped in my other, the next thing I know I'm stitching him back together. It doesn't look very professional when I'm done but I tie off the end and cut away the excess twine. I smear it with ointment and repeat the same process with his back where the pipe first pierced. I prop him up to wrap him more properly this time.

"Thank you."

He's bound and clean and I'm extra cautious to prevent blood poisoning so I give him a shot of antibiotics. He should be dead with a wound this fatal but he isn't, so he clearly is something otherworldly. But my mind is racing because there's nothing left to do now but stare at how human he looks like this. It's true. He's half naked, vulnerable, and in need of my help. He may still think he's beyond humanity, but his anatomy says otherwise. I watch him carefully, nothing is perverse about this. I feel good. I feel good _with_ him.

"Thank you, Heather," Valtiel repeats.

I purse my chapped lips while watching the seam of his. I think of the kisses we've previously shared and look away to keep me from doing anything stupid again. Keep it together Heather. There is no such thing as happily ever after with a creature from Silent Hill.

"You're welcome," is all I can say.

I want to say and do so many things crossing my mind but I don't. It's almost midnight and I'm bleary eyed. There's only one bed and I don't care. I turn off the lamp light, push the medical supplies off the bed, and crawl beneath the warm comforter. I don't hesitate to press myself against Valtiel and he doesn't seem to mind either because his arm eventually curls around me with a shyness I deeply admire.

For the first time in a long time, I fall asleep gently and without nightmares.

.

I am the first to wake. The pale gray light of morning beams onto us and it is too strong for me to sleep through it. Heather hasn't noticed this yet, so I stir slowly enough not to wake her. Then I've just discovered that not only can I move with less pain than before, I have also slept for the very first time. I surely fell unconscious when the pipe tore through me, but that was different. That was not deliberate. This time, it was.

This should be impossible. I should have healed completely by now. There should be no wound at all. But there is and I feel it closing by the hours.

I sit upright and it is excruciating. The thread woven into me tugs and pulls. Blasphemy, this is sheer blasphemy. I can already hear Heather's angered swears at me to lie back down but I do not. I turn to the window and breathe. It is so unbelievably extraordinary that I am breathing now like her. It is wonderful and painful but I am so much like her now. Perhaps that isn't the best thing to be proud of.

Something catches my attention and draws it away from the synthetic humanity building inside of me. It is the map. It rests on the stand so quaintly, and somehow it implores for me to look at it. So I do. I retrieve it, unfold it and swallow it up in my sight. There is nothing unusual about it except for the dark underlining of the Lake Side Amusement Park.

Why would she want to go there?

"What are you doing?" Heather asks languidly from behind me. I close up the map quickly and quietly. "You shouldn't be up like this; you'll tear your stitches."

"My apologies. I felt like moving about."

"Oh" she replies flatly.

I feel the bed dip and move as Heather stretches and gets out of bed entirely. I face her, only briefly, then I rear back to look at the window. Her shirt falls to the floor and her skirt soon follows pursuit. The closet door opens and closes and another door does the same. The water runs for her bath and I dare not move again. Roughly fifteen minutes have passed but before she has the time to come back to find anything peculiar I place the map exactly as I found it.

"I was thinking about going out after this," Heather's voice is muffled through the walls.

"Going... out?"

"Yeah," the water shuts off. "So we can ditch this place. There's another hospital in Central Silent Hill we can catch up to in case we need more supplies, hopefully its a little less crowded there. I want to head up town anyway. I have a feeling we should head in that direction."

"A feeling? What feeling?"

"Like there's something out there," she's walked out of the bathroom and circles in front of me. She looks so focused on a particular memory as she dries her yellow hair with a towel. "You know like there's something calling out to me."

I would like to inform her that usually when Silent Hill beckons for someone it isn't a good thing, but I know plenty well that she is aware of this.

Heather continues to press the towel against her damp hair and I continue to watch her curiously. A simple orange tank top, fitted black pants, knee high furred boots, and a black rope secured as a necklace rests on her so marvelously. She is thin and tall and still so incredibly fascinating. The towel is tossed aside and she takes some kind of sustenance from the wheelchair, unwraps it and stuffs it into her mouth.

"You ready?" she smiles and gestures to the wheelchair.

I look her over once, then twice. My mind is scrambled and I cannot keep track of everything at once. Protecting her, possessing her, I want it all so selfishly and I am starting to not care about the consequences. Her skin is a faint pink from the hot shower and I shudder at the memory of her actually in one. _No_. I shake my head and gradually raise my body to get into the chair because that's all I manage to focus on. My body in the chair. Nothing else.

She takes me by the arm. "Careful."

I ease into it with her help and I feel so disgusting and pathetic and weak in this thing. Heather seems to revel at the sight of me like this because she makes squeaking giggly noises and puts everything she salvaged the night before into my lap and wheels me off into town.

We don't say anything, at least I don't wish to. I fume in my imprisoned chair of doom and the speed picks up as we skid down Munson Street. Heather is sprinting by the time we take a sharp left at Nathan Avenue. I look up and the wind is tousling her hair, whipping it behind her. She's smiling. The look on her face is free and jubilant. Her expression tugs at the seams on my mouth, turning them upward too.

I am afraid that these sensations will be lost, so I hold onto them as tightly as I can.

A thudding within my chest is drumming so loudly.

I cannot ignore it.

I feel so human.

"Heart of Silent Hill," Heather proclaims fiercely. "Here we come."

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**Let's get this out of the way. Shall we? I'm a terrible person and Red Pyramid did give me a damn good beating... and not in the good way.**

**Putting two bloody years aside... ha ha... I would like to address a few things. Two songs are mentioned. Love Song by The Cure, not mine. Precious by Depeche Mode, also not mine. The street names, apartment names, even the gas station names are NOT made up. They are in fact actual places in Silent Hill. I feel so fucking awesome and shiny for brushing up on these things. I have a map too Heather and it's lovely!**

**Happy Friday the 13th everyone! And by the way... Silent Hill: Revelation... FUCK YES MY BITCHES :D Who else is super stoked to see this movie? I know I am. All I have to say is that Valtiel better be in it. Now excuse me boils and ghouls, I have another chapter to work on.**

******I promise I'm not going anywhere my duckies. You haven't heard the last of me yet.**


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